


Dresden Dancing

by Imnotweirdjustwriting



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Happy Ending, M/M, Minor Angst, impulsive Jack, stripper Davey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-11-06 16:54:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11040333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imnotweirdjustwriting/pseuds/Imnotweirdjustwriting
Summary: Jack didn't expect the lap dance. He definitely didn't expect writing an entire research paper with the man behind the dance.





	Dresden Dancing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [poor_guys_headisspinning](https://archiveofourown.org/users/poor_guys_headisspinning/gifts).



> Did you know movie Davey is nicknamed Stripper because he loses an article of clothing each scene?
> 
> Thank you so much for the light of my life poor_guys_headisspinning. They encouraged me to write this and finish it and also edited it like a saint. 
> 
> The title is sort of a play on Dirty Dancing

Jack wasn't sure when he'd last seen the sun-the literal sun that is. He hadn't looked away from the sun he was painting for at least twelve hours. His hand was cramping from holding his paintbrush. He could feel paint smeared across his skin, most notably the blue behind his ear. He wasn't sure how he'd managed to get paint there. The colors on his canvas kept blurring together. Jack figured he had been staring at it for too long. 

The painting was almost finished. Jack knew painting it all in one go was the best idea. There was no way that he would think of a new style or technique before he finished. He was sure he'd taken a break before his fourth pass, or maybe he was already on his fifth. Whatever the case, he was   
it would be done soon. He just needed to add gold detailing and make sure the background had the same color unity as the foreground. 

Jack used the end of his paintbrush to scratch his nose. The door to his studio slammed open, startling Jack into jabbing the paintbrush at his eye. He swore, tears already tracing through the paint on his cheek. 

"Jackie!" A voice called. Jack spun around, squinting through his half-blind eye. Race was grinning at him, his arm slung around Crutchie's shoulder. Jack wasn't sure how they even managed to get into the building. He didn't think he wanted to know. 

"What, Race? Can't you see I'm busy?" Jack was trying to make his eye stop watering, but to no avail. He feared he may have permanently blinded himself. 

Race let go of Crutchie to step closer to Jack's painting. "It's lovely, Jack, but we haven't seen you outside the studio in fifteen hours. Have you even eaten?" 

Jack frowned. "I've been drinking coffee. What time is it anyways?"

Crutchie checked his watch. "Almost 9:30. You've been in here since 7 this morning!" He sounded concerned.

Crutchie touched Jack’s face, leaning close in to look at his eye. “Did you jab yourself with a paintbrush again?”

Jack ducked away from Crutchie, rubbing at his eye. "It’s fine. I'm almost done, just a few more hours."

Race grabbed his arm, prying the paintbrush from Jack's fingers. Jack's hand stayed stuck in that position. One of Race’s eyebrows crept up to judge Jack. "No, you're done. You can come back tomorrow and finish it. You need to take a break, relax a little."

"Race and I have the best idea, you'll love it." Crutchie was practically shaking with excitement.  
Jack swatted Race away from his paints, cleaning up the tubes and brushes. "What would that be?"

Race took a deep breath, building the anticipation. "Clubbing!"

Jack sighed. "Really? Don't you guys have to study or something?" 

Crutchie shrugged. "Nah, besides it's a Friday night. It's time you get your butt out of this room and into the real world. You'll have fun, I promise." He was practically pleading with Jack. 

"All the boys are gonna be there," Race added. 

Jack considered. He'd already put his paints away, and his hands did need a break. He didn't particularly like big crowds, but it wouldn't hurt if all his friends were there. 

"Okay, fine, I'll go. Can I stop home and change first?" Jack gestured to his paint splattered clothing. 

"Oh, don't worry. We already grabbed you something to change into." Crutchie tossed a bag to Jack. He opened it carefully, pulling out the clothes. They'd grabbed him darker jeans, and they looked skinnier than the ones he had on. Jack groaned when he looked at the shirt. 

"You know I was drunk when I got this. It should only be worn for sleeping!" Jack was holding the shirt close to his chest like he could hide it from them. It was orange with the words "I like to arty hard" written across the chest in blue block letters. If the terrible phrase and complimentary colors weren’t bad enough, the neckline was lower than Jack ever thought shirts had a right to be. It was nice for sleeping in during the hot summer, but Jack could feel his dignity shrinking at the idea of wearing it to a club. 

"You don't like it?" Race asked, trying to stop from grinning. "We thought it would make you stand out a little bit. Pick up someone interesting."

Jack groaned. This was the life he was living now. He finished putting his paints away, washing his arms and face while Race and Crutchie waited. He changed quickly, leaving his paint splattered clothes to wear tomorrow. His chest was cold where his shirt lacked material to cover it. 

"Can we go now? Or do you have something else for me?”

Crutchie was covering his mouth to hide his smile. "No, we're ready to go." 

Jack followed his friends out of his studio, his palms sweaty with anticipation of what was to come. 

 

The pounding pulse of the music hurt Jack's ears. He wasn't sure how much hearing he had left anymore at this point. Race and Crutchie had already dragged Jack to three different clubs, but they clearly had a final destination in mind. They hadn't even met up with everyone else until they came into this club. Jack had seen Romeo, Spot, Mush, Blink, and Specs, but they'd all vanished onto the dance floor quickly. Jack was hovering by the walls, questioning his life choices. 

"Crutchie," Jack started. Crutchie stopped watching the dance floor and turned to Jack. "Two questions. One, why are we at a gay bar? And two, why are we at a strip club?" 

It wasn't clearly labeled as either. From the outside Jack expected a normal bar. The interior had quickly changed his mind. Everyone in the club was male, and there were incredibly toned and attractive men on platforms around the room, flirting and flaunting. 

"Look, Jack, Race and I thought you needed this. We went to three normal clubs before and you didn't have any fun at those."

"So you thought I'd have fun here?" Jack snorted. He hated how loud the club was. His inspiration for his painting slipped with each song. He was never finishing it at this rate. 

Crutchie laughed, too. "Nah, but you can relax here. Drink something, find a cute boy, do anything!" 

Jack pouted at him. "I could have finished my painting by now."

Crutchie threw his hands up in exasperation. "I have an idea. Wait here."

Jack watched him take off into the crowd, people clearing the way for him and his crutch. The mob of people closed back up behind him, leaving Jack alone. He sighed. He wasn't in the mood for anything today. He was tempted to bail and head home, but Crutchie reappeared before he could put his plan into action. He was dragging Race along behind him who looked excited. 

"What are you two scheming about?" Jack asked, the devilish grins on both of their faces a dead giveaway. 

"You'll have to wait and see," Race said. Jack sighed. Race clapped a hand on his shoulder. "It's time for you to have fun."

Jack was very worried about what 'fun' implied. He guessed it had nothing to do with art. 

"What have you done?" Jack asked, trying to dig his heels in as Race started pulling him into the crowd. He was definitely heading towards one of the raised platforms. Jack prayed they weren't doing what he thought they were. 

"Here ya go, Jackie." Race stopped walking, letting Jack go finally. Jack did not want to look away from Race. He was too scared of what they'd done. 

"Is this him?" someone asked.

"Oh yeah, this is him. Jack," Race said. He pushed Jack forward. Jack finally looked up to avoid tripping. He almost did a double take. Race and Crutchie had most certainly paid one of the workers, and Jack could see that he was the prettiest one there. He wasn't half naked like the rest’ rather, he had a nice vest on over a white button down. His hair was dark and soft looking. The blue of his eyes was like rich paint. Jack felt his heartbeat pick up just looking at him. 

"You can sit down," the man said to him. Jack looked at where he was gesturing. It was a single chair in the center of the platform. Jack felt his mouth go dry. He turned to Crutchie. 

"You did not pay for a lap dance," he hissed under his breath. 

Crutchie touched his arm. "But we did, and you've gotta sit down now." 

Jack looked back at the chair. There was no way he was going to get out of this. He sat in the chair. Race whistled. Jack resisted the urge to flip him off, instead focusing on the man. 

Hell, he was so pretty. He stepped closer to Jack, his hands resting on either arm of the chair. Their faces were very close. Jack didn't think he was breathing. He could kill Race and Crutchie later. 

The man stepped closer, sliding partially into Jack's lap. Jack was staring at his tie to avoid looking into his eyes. Jack knew there must have been music, but he couldn't hear it over the blood rushing in his ears. 

The man moved closer, his hands reaching up to loosen his tie. He pulled it off, wrapping it around the back of Jack's neck. He used the tie to pull Jack closer till there was almost no space between them. Jack was forced to look up, straight into his pretty eyes. They could kiss if Jack leaned forward more. They were not going to kiss. 

The man stood up, stepping back from Jack for a moment. Jack took deep breaths to recover. The man unbuttoned his vest smoothly, slipping it off before moving on to his button down. Jack sort of missed the vest, but the man's pale and perfect skin was a fine substitute.

Jack's knuckles were white from gripping his legs so hard. The man kept his routine going, but Jack could barely focus. He wanted to save himself from the sheer beauty he was seeing. He wanted to ask the man out for dinner maybe, then afterwards they could resume the strip tease. He didn't say anything, instead sat still and obedient as the man finished. 

Jack was almost dizzy by the time the man helped him stand up. He looked flushed, but Jack was sure he was redder. He wasn't sure what to say, maybe thank you? He opened his mouth but Crutchie was tugging him down and back to their group before he could. 

"You're welcome," he said, smug. 

"Damn, Jack. Don't you feel stress free?" Race was smirking at Jack. Jack managed to sort of nod his head. "Ready to head home then? I think everyone's beat."

Jack nodded again. He let Race lead him out of the club, only stealing one glance back at the beautiful man. 

 

 

Jack somehow managed to go through the rest of the weekend only mildly distracted. He finished his painting and started sketching studies for his next one. He couldn't stop drawing the man. Page after page of his sketchbook was filled with drawings, each more detailed than the last. Jack decided he would work on the painting next weekend and shoved his sketchbook into a drawer so he didn't have to look at it. 

Race and Crutchie texted him constantly to tease him. They'd apologized at first, but now they'd moved on to reminding Jack of how pretty the man was. Jack was tempted to block them. 

Jack had almost managed to forget about the man by the time class rolled around on Monday. He’d gotten roaringly drunk by dinner Sunday and he was still riding out the hangover. He even found the focus to pay attention through his entire lecture in the morning. 

He was worried about his first day in a new class, but he figured they wouldn't do anything today. He found the classroom easily and sat somewhere near the middle. Students were streaming in, filling the seats quickly. Jack rummaged through his bag looking for a notebook, his attention focused solely on his bag. 

Someone sat down in the seat in front of him, the movement of the chair causing Jack to bump his head. 

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" The person said. Jack froze. He knew that voice. He kept his head down and muttered something like 'I'm fine'. His heart was pounding. He finally found the notebook and sat up very slowly in case the person in front of him was looking. He wasn't. 

Jack slumped low in his chair and started at the back of the man's head. It was   
, the man from the club. Jack was praying to every god he could think of that the man wouldn't turn around and recognize him. Jack started grabbing his things to move seats, but the teacher tapped on the board for attention. He was stuck. 

The teacher launched into a lecture right away. Jack had his notebook open but he was way too distracted to write anything. He couldn't look away from the man. Just watching him write notes was mesmerizing. His handwriting was pretty and neat. Jack admired his hands for aesthetic purposes, completely disengaged from the class. He didn’t dare raise his hand or speak in fear it would draw attention to him. 

Watching the man had Jack thinking of the club. He remembered the feeling of the tie against his neck, the feeling of his chest pressed against the man's-

Jack dug his nails into his thigh to remind himself he was in class. He did   
want to deal with anything during a lecture. 

Jack barely survived class, his heart racing the entire time. The second class was over, he threw his things into his bag and ran. He didn't watch where he was going, texting furiously to Crutchie to meet him at the dining hall. 

Jack reached the hall in record time, almost sprinting to make sure he was away from the man. Crutchie was already sitting at a table with Race, both of them trying to throw grapes into the other's mouth. Jack slammed his bag to the table and threw himself into the seat as dramatically as possible. 

"You're never going to guess who's in my history class," Jack said, breathless. 

"Specs?" Crutchie asked hopefully. 

Jack scoffed. "  
, he doesn't need to take history. Do you remember the guy you assholes paid to give me a lap dance?" Jack's voice was pitched low at the last part. 

Race howled with laughter, slamming the juice box he’d been drinking onto the table. "No fucking way! He's in your class?"

Jack nodded mournfully. Race laughed harder. He was practically choking, hitting his own thigh as he wheezed. 

"Did you talk to him?" Crutchie asked, always curious. He was intentionally ignoring Race now. 

Jack shook his head hard enough to hurt. "No! I kept my head down and didn't say anything the entire time. He sits right in front of me." 

Race looked like he was going to cry from laughing so hard. He wiped at his eyes like he   
been. "This is amazing. Are you going to talk to him?"

"Are you insane?! Never! I'm going to keep quiet and change seats as soon as I can. Maybe I'll drop the class, I don't need to take it this semester." Jack was mentally mapping out the route to the administration building, ready to go drop the class. 

Crutchie put a hand on Jack's arm. "Don't worry, This class will be fine. You can move seats and never have to talk to him."

Jack sighed. He wanted to talk to him. He just didn't want to think about the lap dance that had changed his life. 

"You're right. I'm gonna move next class. It's only a semester. It's not like I'm going to have to talk to him."

Crutchie nodded, still touching Jack's shoulder. "Don't worry about this."

 

Jack survived the next two days without any extra thoughts about the man. Sure, he had a brief dream in which he made an appearance, but Jack blamed that on the half gallon of apple juice he'd chugged before bed. 

He showed up to class earlier than most people, throwing his stuff into a seat in the back. He figured no one would see him unless they were actively searching (and the man definitely wasn't). 

Jack spotted him the moment he walked in the door. He sat in the same seat he had last time, not even sparing a glance at the seat Jack had occupied. Jack was at once relieved and upset. At least he knew the man hadn't noticed him. 

People filed into the classroom in a steady stream until the class finally started. Jack could actually pay attention this time, as he wasn't distracted by the man. The teacher was talking about a research essay they had to do. Jack could handle that, even if the teacher was insisting they do it with a partner. 

"I'll assign you alphabetically. Please listen for your name and who you will be partnered with. You can stand and meet with your partner when your names are called. Rebecca Agnes and Sarah Almaat..." Jack zoned out as the professor droned on. He didn't have to focus till the Ks rolled around. He doubled checked his notes before he started packing up. Once he got his partner he would be done. 

"David Jacobs and Jack Kelly," the professor said. 

Jack stood at the mention of his name. He looked around for who else standing. He almost ran out of the classroom. 

It was the man. His partner was the man. The man- David- was staring up at Jack. Jack thought he could see recognition in those blue eyes.

He was so fucked. 

Jack mustered up every bit of courage he could and approached the man. 

"Hi, I'm Jack," he said, extending his hand for a handshake. 

David shook his hand. "I'm David."

Jack decided he would die before he mentioned the lap dance. He hoped David felt the same way. 

"Do you have an idea for a controversial topic?" Jack asked, quick to set them on task. 

David's eyes lit up. "I was actually reading about this last night. The bombing of Dresden, it's controversial and easy to research."

Jack nodded. "If you think it's a good idea let's do it. I don't have any ideas myself."

David was smiling. "You have a laptop, right? Let's decide if we want to blame the United States or Great Britain..."

David trailed off as he began furiously typing. Jack checked the wiki page for more info on the bombing. It was pretty boring; he wasn't sure what David found exciting about it. Nevertheless, Jack quickly got caught up in finding sources and references for the paper. He didn't even realize class was over until David started packing up. 

"We can work on this sometime this week if you're free," David offered. "I can shoot you an email and we can plan a time to meet."

Jack nodded. "Sounds good to me. It was a pleasure," Jack held his hand out again to shake David's. He felt like an absolute dumbass. David shook his hand anyways, waving once at Jack before walking away. 

Jack pulled his phone out and sent a single SOS to Crutchie. 

Race and Crutchie were in the same spot in the dining hall when Jack found them. Jack wasn’t sure why Crutchie was bringing Race to Jack’s freakouts, but he wasn’t in a state to complain. 

"So, what's going on?" Crutchie asked, lazily spooning crushed cookies onto a cup of ice cream. Jack grabbed the spoon from him and ate some, already stressed. 

"I'm paired with him for a project," he said, forlorn and whiny. 

Race choked on the ice cream he was eating. "What?! Did he recognize you?"

Jack shook his head. "Neither of us said anything but I'm almost sure he recognized me. He's so pretty. His name is David, like the angel."

"David was a king-" Race hit Crutchie to shut him up. 

"You're going to survive this, Jack. It's just one project. It's going to be over before you know it."

Jack shook some sprinkles into Crutchie's ice cream without looking, scooping more into his mouth. "I hope you're right."

 

  
The pinging of a notification on Jack's phone woke him up. He'd drifted off while researching Dresden. He fumbled blindly for the phone, pulling it close to his face to see.

A mail notification was the only thing. He didn't recognize the email, but the subject was "Research Project". 

Jack’s heart did a little flip. David had emailed him. About the project, of course, but it was something. 

Jack scanned the email quickly. It was incredibly formal, each point sectioned into a paragraph. David even had a signature at the end that looked personalized. Jack had to read it a few times to separate random facts from important things. 

David wanted to meet with Jack in the library so they could work. He had a study room booked and had already started finding reference texts. Jack was beyond glad that David was on top of things. Jack couldn't even find his pants.

Jack pulled himself out of his bed, quickly typing a reply to David. He toed around for his jeans, checking and double checking his email for typos. He only had to send an "okay see you there" but he thought David wouldn't appreciate that. He finally located his jeans, almost tripping himself as he struggled to hit send while pulling them on. 

His phone said it was 5:00. He had an hour until he was supposed to meet with David. Jack figured a snack at the library wouldn't hurt. 

Jack threw some of his binders into a bag so he would be ready. He hoped there was a pen somewhere, as he'd lost his during class. Jack had the bad habit of tapping pens until they flew out of his hand. 

Jack set the bag by the door next to his shoes to make sure he wouldn't forget it. He opened a text to Crutchie, quickly informing him of the fact that he was going to be stuck with David, in a room, alone, for an unknown amount of time. 

Jack dug up some bagel bites and threw them into the microwave. He wanted something sweeter, but Crutchie had warned him that if he ever put sprinkles on bagel bites again, Crutchie would have no choice but to kill Jack. 

Jack didn't feel like testing that. 

He grabbed a family sized bag of M&Ms and a few cokes to put in his bag too. The bagel bites were like lava as he struggled to fit them into a container. 

His phone pinged. Crutchie had only sent a little devil emoji. Jack sent him the middle finger back. 

He shoved the rest of his stuff into his bag. Jack didn't have anything else to do. He figured showing up early to the library wouldn't hurt. 

Apparently David had the same idea. Jack ran into him right outside the door to the library. 

"Jack! Here, the room is over by the computers," David didn't even say hello before dragging Jack into the library. Jack stumbled behind David as he pulled him between shelves to a study room. 

Jack whistled when he saw the stacks of books on the table. "All of these are about Dresden?"

David laughed. "No, that's silly. There are some on World War Two, some on war bombing, some on war bombing during World War Two, a few on the history of Germany, and yeah, a few about Dresden."

Jack did not want to read that many books. "Are you hungry?" He asked David, eager to divert his attention from the books. 

David frowned at Jack. "Yeah, but you're not supposed to eat in the library."

Jack scoffed, already pulling his food out. "We aren't in the library. We're in a study room. Have a coke."

David watched Jack unpack his food, cradling his pop in his hands. Jack sat, pouring a few M&Ms in with his bagel bites. 

David made a gagging noise. "That's disgusting."

Jack shrugged, already enjoying his 'dinner'. "Don't mock me for what I eat. Mock Arthur Harris for thinking area bombing was a good idea."

David snorted, setting his drink down. "A Dresden joke? Great job."

Jack shoved another bagel bite into his mouth. "So," He cleared his throat a little bit. "Should we blame the United States?"

David sat down, already flipping books open. "No, of course not. Here I was reading this and it has a lot about Great Britain..."

Jack half listened to David explain their topic to him. He understood the basics, and David seemed to understand everything. Jack was so thankful David liked historical argumentative papers.

David started stacking books in front of Jack, rattling off summaries. “I bookmarked chapters to read. Just find some good quotes, I can do all the background research.”

“Are you sure? That seems like a lot, do you even have time?”

David nodded. “I’ll be fine, this is a fun paper.”

Jack watched him hoist up a book that was at least a thousand pages. “If you insist.”

Jack somehow lifted his pile of books, his arms burning. They had to equal the weight of a small child. David packed his things as well. 

“We can meet back here tomorrow night. Or we could meet at the cafe,” Jack offered. 

“How about the cafe around 6? We don't have to do much else besides reading currently.” 

Jack nodded, shuffling his books around to extend a hand to David. “See you then.”

David shook his hand. “Be safe.”

Jack watched David disappear back into the library, not even struggling to carry his stack of books. Jack pulled his phone out to text Race. 

Jack stared at his screen until Race answered.   
was all Jack told him. Getting back to their shared apartment took Jack much longer than usual. He couldn't see well over his stack of books and had to walk incredibly slow to avoid tripping. 

He kicked on the door to knock, almost sobbing with relief when it opened. 

“My god, did you take the whole library?” Race asked, shutting the door behind Jack. 

Jack dumped the books onto the table, his arms sore. “Only half. David took the others.”

Crutchie made a noise. “David? Like the actual angel man David? What are you doing with him?”

“Our project!”

Race laughed very loudly. “You’re already meeting up with him?”

“Yes! He's very on top of things. But that's not the point!” Jack slammed his hands onto the table, making Race jump. “The point is that I have to meet up with him everyday this week! We can’t avoid it forever, the lap dance is going to come up!”

“It doesn’t have to if you never mention it. Just do the project and move on,” Crutchie suggested. 

Jack groaned. “But he’s so pretty.”

“Someone's got a crush,” Race cooed in a singsongy voice. Jack tried blindly to slap him but Race was too nimble. “What do you plan to do about it?” 

Jack sighed. “I’m gonna finish the project and find another beautiful stranger to chase.”  
Race hit Jack’s leg, his palm over Jack’s knee. “There's my beautiful bisexual. Move on and let go.”

Jack nodded, his heart aching at the thought of David forgetting him. 

 

  
Jack and Davey met up at the cafe when it was empty. Usually people were packed into the cafe, but on a Wednesday night most people were either already asleep or in the library studying. Jack didn't know if he was happy or terrified to have so little people around. 

"Did you start reading yet?" David asked him right away. 

Jack stirred his hot chocolate. He'd mixed in chocolate and such to make it sweeter. "I started a few," he lied. He'd read through all of them and hadn't understood anything. He begged Specs to help and spent three hours with him while he explained it to Jack. 

David looked pleased. "Okay, so I’m guessing we can focus on the idea of area bombing..."

Jack listened as hard as he could to David. He was distracted too easily. Jack's leg was bouncing incredibly fast as he jotted down notes about what David was saying. He added little drawings too so he would remember certain things later. David watched him with a hint of amusement, still explaining their paper to Jack. 

Jack finally understood their paper and opened Specs' notes to show David. David already knew exactly what he wanted from the paper. He poured over the notes, typing stuff onto his laptop. His focus was incredible. Jack's was not. 

"Do you want another coffee?" Jack asked him, playing with his own empty cup. 

David glanced up from his computer. "Do you mind?"

Jack shook his head. David smiled. "Just don't load it with whatever crap you put in yours."

Jack made a mocking noise of hurt. "This is how you repay my kindness?"

"I don't want to die young from health complications."

Jack shrugged. "Fair enough."

Jack took both mugs back up to get them refilled. He loaded his once more with sugar and toppings, leaving David's untouched. 

He walked very slowly back to the table to avoid spilling any. He set his down then handed David his. 

David fumbled, splashing the hot coffee onto his lap. He cursed, jumping up. 

"Jeez, Dave, you weren't this clumsy Friday night," Jack joked without thinking. 

David froze, his hands holding bunches of napkins. Jack watched his face flush bright red.   
David cleared his throat. "You recognized me?" he asked, his voice considerably higher. 

Jack regretted every decision he had ever made in his life leading up to this. "How could I not? You’re quite memorable."

Jack thought about smashing his head into the table until he couldn't speak anymore. 

David groaned. "Can't we just do Dresden and act like that never happened?" He was wiping furiously at his things to clean the coffee. 

"Why are you even working there anyways?" Jack asked, genuinely curious. "You don't seem the type."

"How do you think I'm paying for this class?" David tried to laugh but it sounded incredibly forced. 

 

Jack shrugged. “Nevermind. I was thinking we can talk about the concept of area bombing versus terror bombing.”

David’s eyes lit up. The tips of his ears were still red. “Good plan! I actually have an outline I can share with you…”

Jack tried to focus entirely on David. He was very clever and organized. Jack figured the project would be easy, especially considering the lap dance thing had already been dealt with.

David finished all of his explanations after two more coffees. Jack was almost excited about Dresden. 

“I’ll email you if you want to meet up again,” David said, packing his coffee stained things.

Jack grabbed his things in a messy pile, gulping down the last of his coffee. “Yeah, sounds good. I’ll see you then.”

Jack shook David’s hand, feeling just as stupid as he had last time. David left the cafe first. Jack hung back, typing a frantic message to Crutchie.

He almost ran back home, flinging the door open the second he got back.

“Major problem!” Jack yelled into the apartment. Race and Crutchie paused the video game they were playing to pay attention to Jack. Jack threw himself onto the couch with them.

“He recognized me! The lap dance thing came up.” 

Crutchie covered his mouth to stifle his laughs. Race was already wheezing, his hand hitting his thigh. 

“Guys! This isn't funny!” Jack whined. 

Race swiped at his face like he was wiping away tears. “I'm sorry. How did this conversation happen? Did he say ‘hey I gave you a lap dance Friday’ or something else?”

Jack groaned. “I made a joke about him being clumsy. He was really shocked I remembered him.” Jack dropped his face into his hands. “How could I not? He’s perfect.” 

Crutchie patted Jack’s shoulder. “It's going to be okay. I'm sure he'll forget about it soon enough. You'll just be another lap dance in the list.”

“That doesn't help! I don't want him to forget! Maybe the lap dance part, yeah, but not about me.”

Race patted Jack’s other shoulder. “You’ll be fine.”

Jack whined. “Don’t lie to me. I’m gonna die.”

Crutchie handed Jack his controller. “Take your frustrations out in Super Smash Bros.”

Jack nodded. He didn’t have to acknowledge his problems if he didn’t want to. Two hours into his tournament with Race he had forgotten entirely. 

 

 

Jack and Davey met up every night for the rest of the week. Jack made it his own personal duty to bring weird foods for Davey. The most memorable was his s'mores pizza, which was just normal pizza he crumbled graham crackers on and threw on marshmallows and chocolate. Davey had almost cried watching Jack eat it and had gagged when he was persuaded into trying some. 

Jack still appreciated his efforts. He really appreciated Davey in general. The tension of the whole "I gave you a lap dance" thing was swept under the rug. Instead, they talked about Dresden, and history, and themselves. Jack was always happy to talk to people and learn about them. He was keeping a little list on his phone of everything Davey had told him so he wouldn't forget. 

His favorite thing to hear about was Davey's family. He adored the way Davey's eyes lit up when he talked about his youngest brother, Les. He thought his ex, Katherine, would adore Davey's older sister. Davey spoke about Sarah like she was his favorite person. Jack was just the tiniest bit jealous of Davey's siblings. 

Jack even told Davey he wished he had siblings. 

Davey had laughed. "No, they're a pain in the ass."

Yet Davey continued to tell stories about them to Jack when they weren't writing. They didn't write much, as Davey had already done the whole paper. Jack was actually surprised he'd managed to contribute anything. He was proud of himself. 

Jack and Davey were in the middle of one of their "breaks." Davey was sipping his black coffee (with two pumps of vanilla from Jack) and talking about work. He was quite casual with the whole thing. Jack admired it. 

Jack fidgeted a bit, tapping a pencil against Davey's binder. "If you don't mind me asking, why do you have this job?"

Davey frowned a little. "It's not a very interesting story." He picked at his nail, not looking at Jack. 

"I don't mind." Jack was open to talking about anything with Davey (besides the lap dance part). 

Davey glanced at Jack for a second, probably checking if he was serious. He was. Davey took a deep breath. "My family can't really afford college. My dad, he got fired right before I started this year. He hurt his arm really bad."

Jack made a tiny noise. "Is he okay?"

Davey nodded, focused on his nails again. "He's almost recovered now, he just... doesn't really have a job. My mom was going to get one, but my little brother needs someone to take care of him. His name is Les. I don't want my parents leaving him alone just to pay for me. And my sister, Sarah. Well, she can't really watch him."

"Why not?" Jack asked. He guessed he shouldn't be asking questions but he was very curious and impulsive. 

"She's, uh, she's gay. And my parents didn't like it when she came out. She sort of left, sort of got kicked out."

"What about you?"

Davey rubbed a hand across his face. "They don't really know. That I'm gay," he voice sounded strained. "They know I have a job, that's why I'm still here. Sarah knows but she would never tell them. It's the fastest and easiest way I can pay for this year."

Jack's heart hurt at the sight of Davey being sad. It wasn't something he ever wanted to see across the pretty boy's features. Davey was still picking at his nails. Jack touched his shoulder so he turned to face Jack. Jack did the stupidest thing his impulsive ass could think of. 

He kissed Davey. 

Davey's lips were soft and pliant against his own. Jack leaned closer, his hands moving to touch Davey's face. Davey froze at the touch. Jack pulled back a little to look at him. 

Davey's cheeks were flushed, his ears red. His eyes were wide. "What the hell was that?" He asked, his voice low. 

Jack blanched. "What? I-"

"You pity me and you think kissing me will make it better? Just because I'm gay or something?"

Jack struggled for words, his head was still spinning. "No, David, I didn't mean-"

"It doesn't matter what you meant. Just-" Davey scrubbed his hands over his face and exhaled hard. "Get back to your dorm safe."

Davey grabbed his things, throwing himself out of his seat and away from Jack. 

"Davey!" Jack called. He kept walking. "Dave, please. David!"

Davey didn't turn back.

Jack swore, slamming a fist down. His hands were shaking. He dropped his face into his hands and took very deep breaths. He wasn't going to cry. He was going to text Crutchie and deal with this. 

 

, he typed. 

 

Jack dropped his phone into his bag and stood. He was practically dragging himself back home. He wanted to crawl into a hole and cry. Or maybe die. Either way he wouldn't have to think about the look on Davey's face anymore. 

Crutchie and Race were patiently waiting when he returned. They each looked a little awkward. 

“What happened?” Crutchie asked as Jack sank into a seat next to him.

“I, uh. I kissed him.” Jack said, barely speaking above a whisper.

Race clapped his hands together. “Jack! That’s good! What happened?”

Jack cleared his throat. “He shoved me away. He yelled at me for pitying him.” Jack pressed his hands to his face, exhaling hard. “God, I fucked up so bad.”

Crutchie reached for Jack’s arm. “You can fix this. Why did he think you were pitying him?”

“He told me why he’s working at the club, and how his parents don’t know he’s gay. He just looked sad I did the first thing I thought of.”

“You still have to finish the project. Just talk to him. Next time you meet, ask him to talk.” Race suggested.

Jack blinked at him. “That’s actually an okay idea.”

Race shrugged. “I have okay ideas sometimes.”

Jack laughed halfheartedly. “If you two don’t mind, I’m going to lay down I think.”

“No problem. We’re here if you need anything.” Crutchie said, his voice comforting.

Jack dragged himself to his room, collapsing down to his bed. He wanted to email Davey. He didn’t email Davey. He laid there, staring at his ceiling. He’d painted the night sky across it. Jack fell asleep staring at the moon. 

 

 

Jack woke up to pounding. He blinked, checking the clock next to his bed. It was almost two in the morning. 

The knocking at the door was loud enough to drive Jack out of bed. It wasn’t going to stop. He wasn't sure if Race and Crutchie were asleep yet, but he didn't want to find out. He stumbled out of his room towards the door, finally wrenching it open. 

Davey stood in his doorway. Jack almost slammed the door shut in panic. Davey seemed to notice the look on his face as he put a hand on the door. 

"Please, Jack. I need to talk to you."

Jack stepped aside to let Davey in. Davey kept his back turned to Jack, running his hands through his hair. 

"Listen, Dave, about earlier-"

Davey held up a hand to stop him. "No, you listen."

Jack was worried Davey had come here to yell at him. He could feel his chest tighten at the idea. 

Davey continued, oblivious to Jack's panic. "I realized that you sort of got a lap dance from me at a gay bar, and yeah, that means you're probably not straight and you probably had a reason to kiss me. Maybe I'm kidding myself but you could have had your own motivation to kiss me. I don't want to start assuming things but I don't want you to think I'm mad at you because I was being stupid. You're just so attractive and it's really been throwing me off and the kiss today was like, the final straw. And I really would want to kiss you again but like I said, I could just be kidding myself and-"

Jack grabbed Davey by his stupid tie and pulled him in to kiss him. Davey made a surprised sound against Jack's lips. Jack kissed him hard, desperate for whatever Davey would give him. 

He did not disappoint. Davey's hands settled on Jack's waist, barely there. It wasn't enough. Jack clutched at Davey's shirt, pulling him closer. He ran his hands across Davey's chest and back around his neck, barely grazing Davey's hair. Davey stepped closer, pressing their chests together. 

Jack moved his hands to Davey's hair and whined. Davey took advantage of his slack mouth and kissed him harder, open mouthed and hot. Jack moaned into Davey's mouth. His lips were amazing. Davey reached for Jack's shirt, his hands touching his bare stomach. Jack tugged at his shirt, desperate to have it off. He pulled away from Davey a moment to remove it fully. Davey whined a little at the loss but stopped when he saw Jack’s shirt. 

"Do you only own V-necks?" he asked. His voice was low and rough. 

 

Jack made a noise. "It's my sleep shirt, I get hot." Jack pulled the shirt off fully. Davey’s hands settled on his bare sides, each fingertip burning a mark into Jack’s skin. 

"Is that why you're in these?" Davey asked, eyebrow raised as he ran a thumb across the waistband of Jack's shorts. They were   
short. 

"It keeps me cool," Jack protested. Davey opened his mouth again, ready to call Jack out. Jack tugged him back in, whining into the kiss. Davey's hands stayed near his shorts, almost touching Jack's ass. Jack grabbed at Davey, pulling him closer till they were almost completely pressed together. The material of Davey’s shirt was soft against Jack’s chest. 

Jack stepped forward more, forcing Davey to step back against the wall. Davey made a surprised noise when his back hit the wall. He kissed Jack harder. 

Jack moved from Davey's lips and onto his neck. Dave gasped, biting at his lip. Jack wanted to do it for him, but he was focused on marking the pale skin of Davey's neck. Davey moaned as Jack mouthed along his collarbone. He unbuttoned the top buttons of Davey's shirt so he could kiss more of his smooth skin. Jack sucked a bruise just below the collar of Davey's shirt. Davey was squirming, clutching at Jack and moaning. Jack never wanted to hear any other sound. 

Jack went back to his lips, kissing him like he'd die if he didn't. Jack thought maybe he actually would die if he stopped kissing Davey. Davey was gasping and moaning into Jack's mouth, his hands moving restlessly on Jack. He seemed to settle on one hand in Jack's hair, the other on the small of his back. Jack wanted to kiss him till his lips went numb. Instead he trailed kisses back down to Davey's neck. The moment his lips touched Davey's skin, Davey pulled at his hair. Jack groaned, his attention narrowing down entirely to Davey and his neck and the feeling of his hands in Jack’a hair. 

Jack's nimble fingers unbuttoned the rest of Davey's shirt, pushing it off his shoulders and to the floor. Jack traced his fingers up Davey's spine causing him to arch forward into Jack. 

Jack pressed Davey harder against the wall, determined to mark his neck with kisses and bruises. Jack didn't hold back, attacking Davey's neck. His teeth grazed the soft skin and his tongue soothed the sting. Davey was gasping, his nails digging into Jack's shoulders, sure to leave marks. Jack wanted to hear him moan again. His hand moved to Davey's waistband, one finger working at his button-

"My god, please, stop for a second."

Jack flew away from Davey. Davey yelped and stumbled away from the wall, breathing hard. His face was flushed and his hair was a mess. 

"Calm down, it's just me."

Jack spun around, his chest heaving. "Crutchie! What the hell? Why aren't you asleep?"

Crutchie was standing in the hall, his hand half covering his face. "It's hard to sleep when you two are crashing around in here. 

"Uh, we weren't-" Jack started. 

Crutchie stopped him. "You're literally standing here shirtless. David has a killer hickey. You can't back out of this."

Davey groaned. "I guess I should introduce myself." He extended a hand to Crutchie, his face burning. "I'm Davey. Maybe you remember me? Sorry for the lack of shirt." 

Crutchie shook his hand. "I don't mind but please, keep it down."

Jack promised they would. Crutchie looked satisfied enough and disappeared back into his room. 

Jack turned to Davey and groaned immediately. "I'm so sorry, I thought he was asleep."

Davey half laughed. "No, it's fine, I just wasn't expecting him to show up. I hope it was a good first impression."

Jack gave him a pained smile. "It's getting pretty late. You can stay here for the night, I don't want you walking alone."

Davey considered it. "I'd like that a lot, actually, thank you. Do you have a shirt I can wear?"

Jack held up a finger. He fumbled around the living room till he found his own shirt that Davey had flung. "This work?" He asked. 

Davey sighed. "Yeah." He pulled it on. Jack had to focus very hard at not laughing about his half-naked chest. 

Jack grabbed Davey's hand, playing with his fingers for a moment. Now that they weren't kissing, everything felt much more subdued. Jack's heart was fluttering. He pulled Davey closer, his hand on his shoulder. He kissed him once, softer and sweeter than he had before. There was no desperation or fear of rejection. Davey kissed him back just as gently, his hands on Jack's hips. 

 

Davey pulled away after a long moment, his forehead still against Jack's. "It's late. We should sleep."

Jack pouted but pulled Davey to his room. He knocked the door shut behind him with his hip, already reaching for Davey. 

Davey let Jack kiss him, stepping backwards as Jack stepped closer. Davey's legs hit the bed and he stumbled, falling back onto the mattress. Jack didn't even break the kiss, falling on top of Davey on the bed. Davey kissed him a moment longer before pulling away again. Jack whined. 

 

"Get ready for bed." He said softly. 

Jack pulled himself off Davey in the most dramatic way he could. He rummaged through his drawers till he found a shirt and put it on. Davey moved to lay on half of the bed. Jack laid next to him, pulling the blankets up. 

Davey rolled and draped an arm across Jack's waist. His head was against Jack's chest. Jack felt very warm and very content. He could feel Davey's breathing slow, and his slowed too. He drifted off into sleep, happier than he thought he could be. 

 

 

Jack was warm and content when he woke up. He was closer to Davey than he ever thought he'd be lucky enough to be. Davey's back was pressed against Jack's chest. Jack wasn't even sure which legs belonged to who, they were so tangled. Davey's hand held his where his arm was slung over Davey's waist. 

Jack laid perfectly still, savoring the warmth. He didn't know how Davey would react when he woke up. He hoped Davey wouldn't be too angry. 

Davey shifted against him. His soft breathing faltered, his legs stretching. He was waking up. Jack froze. Davey moved more, pulling away from Jack's chest. Jack felt his heart drop. Davey stopped and rolled, Jack's arm still over his waist. 

Davey was awake and staring at Jack with his brilliant blue eyes. His features were still soft with sleep. He was almost smiling at Jack. "Hi," he whispered, his voice rough with sleep. 

"Hi," Jack whispered back, his voice barely functioning. He was focusing all of his functions on Davey. 

Davey, who'd decided to move closer again. He leaned back into Jack's chest. Jack felt his heartbeat pound harder against his ribcage. Davey was moving slowly but purposefully. Jack could feel Davey's breath hitting his collarbone. His lips followed a moment later. Jack gasped a little bit. Davey's lips were warm on his neck. He did not want to get out of bed ever again if he could have the feeling of Davey's lips on his neck. 

Everything felt a little bit unreal. Jack's entire world was hyper-focused on Davey. His skin felt hot where Davey touched it. 

Jack shifted to give Davey better access. Davey didn't need more prompting. His lips moved across Jack's neck. Jack gasped at the feeling. He wasn't half asleep anymore. Davey's insistent kisses demanded Jack's full attention. 

Davey pressed closer, his hands flat on Jack's chest. He pushed a little bit, gently coaxing Jack onto his back. Jack went willingly, his heart pounding hard where Davey's lips were. 

Davey straddled Jack with grace that was unfair of someone so early in the morning. His hands skimmed Jack's sides, pushing up Jack's shirt to reveal his ribs. Jack's back arched a little when Davey touched his chest. His hand was warm and light on Jack's side. Davey bit lightly at Jack's collarbone, grinning against his skin when Jack moaned. 

Davey sat up, finally giving Jack's neck a break. He reached for Jack's shirt to pull it off. Davey froze. 

"You okay?" Jack managed, his voice rough from sleep and Davey's touch. 

Davey grinned at him. "This is the shirt you were wearing when we met." He was laughing. 

Jack glanced down. Davey was right, it was his Arty Hard v-neck. "I sleep in this!" he protested weakly. "I get hot at night."

Davey was still in his lap, laughing. He snorted a little bit, the noise driving himself further to the edge. Davey moved off of Jack, curling in on himself on the bed. He was wheezing for breath, helpless laughs escaping each time he dared to look at Jack. 

Jack felt his face stretch into a grin. He swatted playfully at Davey. "Stop! You're being unfair."

Davey managed to stop laughing long enough to talk to Jack. "I’m sorry, it's just, who wears that to a club?" He had tears in his eyes. 

"I do, when Race and Crutchie dress me." Jack was whining. 

Davey finally calmed down. "I'm going to have to thank them." 

Jack groaned. "Can't we just kiss and pretend they have nothing to do with this?"

"I’m sorry, Jack, I can't kiss you if you're wearing that shirt."

"This wasn't a problem earlier!" Jack whined. 

Davey looked sympathetic to his cause. “Aren’t you hungry?”

Jack’s stomach growled as if on cue. “A little bit. What time is it?”

Davey looked at his clock. “Almost eleven.”

Jack grinned at him. “Race will make pancakes if we ask him nicely.”

“Your friends are interesting,” Davey said, moving so his legs were hanging off the side of the bed.

Jack sat up and draped himself across Davey’s back. “You can meet them later. I want food now.”

Jack moved away from Davey and stood, pulling him upright. The smell of pancakes hit Jack’s nose the moment he opened his bedroom door.

“Good morning you two,” Race said, turning from the stove. He was wearing his Kiss The Cook apron and holding a spatula. “You must be David.”

Davey stepped forward, his hand extended. “And you’re Race?”

Race shook his hand, grinning. “I hope you like pancakes.”

Jack sat down at the table next to Crutchie. Crutchie was wiggling his eyebrows at Jack.

“Stop that,” Jack hissed at him. Race and Davey were talking excitedly to each other while Race made pancakes. 

“Stop what?” Crutchie asked innocently, still doing it.

“Nothing happened,” Jack said, answering the question Crutchie wasn’t asking aloud. 

“Sure. Tell that to your matching hickies.”

Jack’s hand went to his neck. He hadn’t realized Davey had marked him at all. His face felt hot. “Don’t freak him out.”

Crutchie held his hands up. “I would never. Besides, I think he likes Race.”

Jack turned in his seat to check on the two. Race was pouring the pancake batter into a (hopefully) empty ketchup bottle. 

“What are you two doing?” Jack asked.

“Pancake art,” Race answered, scraping at the last of the batter.

“We are going to remake historically accurate aspects of Dresden,” Davey explained.

“I’m making a bomb,” Race added. 

Jack turned back around in his seat. Crutchie was looking at him with an ‘I told you so’ face. Jack stuck his tongue out at him.

Race and Davey finished the pancakes quickly. Crutchie and Jack oohed and aahed as they presented each creation. They let Jack finish off the batter. He attempted to make a pancake Davey but ended up with a lopsided smiley pancake. 

Davey chatted politely with Race and Crutchie the entire time. They all seemed to get along very well. Jack was pleased. Their little breakfast was done much sooner than Jack would have liked. 

“I have to get back to my dorm and make sure my roommate knows I’m alive,” Davey said, standing.

Jack stood with him, carrying their dished to the sink. “So soon?”

Davey nodded, frowning at Jack. “I’ve been here all night.”

Jack walked him to the door. Davey grabbed his shoes then stopped. “Where’s my shirt?” 

“Is this it?” Race asked. He picked a shirt up from the side of the couch. He was grinning.

“Yeah, toss it,” Davey caught the shirt. “Thank you.” He pulled Jack’s shirt off and put his own on quickly. Jack watched him sadly as he tugged his shoes on too.

“You really have to go?” Jack whined.

Davey stood. He leaned in and kissed Jack lightly, just once. Jack whined more. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

Jack grabbed his hand before he left. He tangled their fingers again, idly playing with Davey’s hand. “I’ll miss you.”

Davey smiled. He kissed Jack one more time and let himself out.

“Jack, holy shit.” Crutchie said the moment Davey was gone. “I don’t remember him being that pretty.”

Jack groaned, sitting down with Race and Crutchie again. “I know. He’s going to kill me, I’m so happy.”

Race dumped more syrup on a pancake, adding whipped cream and sprinkles. He slid the plate to Jack. “Congratulations, my guy.” 

Jack dug into the pancakes, eating as he spoke. “He came over to apologize for snapping at me. Then he sort of kissed me? And kept kissing me, and-”

“Alright we get it,” Race interrupted. 

Jack was beaming. “We haven't even finished our paper yet, we’ll have to see each other this week.”

“I'm so proud of you.” Crutchie hugged Jack, smiling almost as hard as he was. “Just never keep me awake because you're making out with him again.”

Jack laughed. “I can't make any promises.”

 

 

Jack met with Davey nine hours later back at his apartment. He had a huge bag of books and his laptop, ready to work. 

 

Jack was not in the mood to work. The moment Davey was inside he pulled him in for a kiss. 

 

"Hey," Davey had protested, pulling away. "We have research to do."

 

"Race and Crutchie are gone," Jack said like that was an excuse. Davey acted like it was one. He kissed Jack, his lips softer than Jack thought they had a right to be.

They didn't get any work done that day.

After that they started meeting in crowded and public places. They found it was the only way they could keep away from each other long enough to get their work done

Even then they struggled. Short breaks turned into frantic kisses in the more deserted part of the library, their work forgotten entirely. 

Davey ended up at Jack's apartment the night before the due date. They both stayed up all night typing frantically. Sure, Davey's planning was meticulous, but Jack decided after each paragraph he could be rewarded with a kiss. Of course, it never stopped at one. So Jack and Davey stayed up all night to finish. 

Jack made them coffee in the morning and practically pulled Davey to the classroom. He had their paper clutched in his hand, beyond ready to turn it in. Jack sat next to Davey during the entire lecture. He tangled their fingers together and played with Davey’s hand. He would trace Davey’s palm and knuckles, stopping only when Davey needed his hand to grab something.

The moment it was done Jack darted to turn in their paper. The professor took it without comment, just a small smile to the two of them. Davey was beaming, as their paper was considerably more pages than the rest of them. 

 

"I can't believe we did that," Davey breathed as they left the classroom. 

 

Jack grabbed his hand, swinging it between them. "Damn right we did. He's going to be blown away, that was the best paper ever."

 

"Even though we finished it at about five this morning," Davey pointed out. 

 

Jack affectionately head butted his shoulder. "We did it though. And when we get an amazing score, we can celebrate."

Davey grinned at him. "Oh yeah, and maybe I'll show you an improved version of what I did at the club. More personal.” 

 

Jack flushed red and dragged Davey the rest of the way to his apartment. They spent the entire night tangled up together, forgetting the paper entirely. 

 

They checked the grade together the next day. A 98%. 

 

"You know what that means," Davey said to him, closing the laptop. His lips were on Jack's before he could even answer. 

 

Jack had never been so happy about his friends dragging him away from one of his paintings for a lap dance.

**Author's Note:**

> Y'all I love talking about Dresden I deleted almost a thousand words of rambling about it.
> 
> This is the longest thing I have ever written. 
> 
> Follow my newsies blog that I sort of made at 1misstherooftop and make sure you check out my friend's fics they're at poor_guys_headisspinning.


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